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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22923541">Borrowed Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disco_Wing/pseuds/Disco_Wing'>Disco_Wing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Batfamily Angst (DCU), Dick Grayson is Nightwing, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major Character Injury, One Shot Collection, Other, Sorry Not Sorry, Temporary Character Death, The Author Regrets Nothing, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:49:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22923541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disco_Wing/pseuds/Disco_Wing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How terrible it is to love something that death can touch.</p>
<p>How terrible it is to see someone once so bright, become nothing but poisonous.</p>
<p>Living off borrowed time.</p>
<p>One-shots and stories about Dick Grayson as Nightwing,  Robin, and some AU's. Oh boy, y'all are in for a ride.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson/Wally West</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Who To Blame?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck life,” He whispered to his empty apartment, drifting slowly towards the unlit kitchen, “I’m gonna eat fifty fucking cartons of ice cream and then pass out and die like a warrior,” Dick decided, nodding his head virgorously, like it was the best decision to help his broken mental state. He was fine, what happened on the mission wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. That was Wally’s choice, not his.</p>
<p>Grabbing his cure-all food, Dick walked, dragging his feet and promptly sat down on his couch, taking care to avoid certain picture frames that were now lying facedown, “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” He asked himself, eating a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream, not caring about the mess he made as a portion fell off the spoon. Nothing could be as bad as what he did tonight. What he’d caused.</p>
<p>“Why the fuck did he have to go and die?” Dick had already shed his tears, better yet, Nightwing had, and yet some still formed. The audacity. Dick squeezed his eyes tightly, doing his best to stop the barrage, but failing nonetheless.</p>
<p>Why’d he go and leave Dick all alone? The mission had been going so well at first. Kid Flash -now Flash- and Nightwing left his apartment to go on a simple recon mission at one of Bane’s current hideouts. The man was trying to establish himself in Bludhaven and Dick wasn’t about to let that happen. It was going to be an easy mission. Nothing was supposed to blow up. Nobody was supposed to die. They were going to go get pizza after, and Dick was finally going to tell Wally.</p>
<p>“Why did things have to go so fucking wrong,” Dick's voice cracked, the damn breaking all at once with pools of tears now running freely down his face. He must look a mess, but it was his best friend. Nothing bad was ever supposed to happen to him. They'd planned for every outcome. But Wally had taken his place -it was Dick who didn’t deserve to live right now. It was Dick who was supposed to be nothing but a pink mist. But his best friend had saved him with a smile on his face. Just like that. One simple push, like it had been the easiest decision in the world. One push, and Dick still couldn't say six words.</p>
<p>Dick jumped slightly when the shrill of his phone rang from the bedroom. That must be Bruce calling. He knew nobody else cared enough to check up on him. Not after the fallout the Team had months ago.</p>
<p>Sighing, Dick left his ice cream on the coffee table and made his way to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. A weak attempt at putting yet another barrier between himself and Bruce. And no matter how much he didn’t want to, Dick answered the phone, wiping some of the tears out of his eyes. Another poor attempt to compose himself.</p>
<p>The caller was indeed Bruce, and it caused Dick to loose yet another piece of himself. Curling his body into itself on his -now- too soft bed, Dick finally whispered, “I fucking miss him." Bruce didn’t reply. It was like the man knew that’s all it took to get Dick to talk. The blank hum of a phone. It’s something Wally used to do when Dick was upset. God, the man hadn’t even been dead two days and Dick already missed him so much. Everywhere he looked, he saw Wally.</p>
<p>Snifiling, he added, “Who the fuck cares?” None of his fellow teammates had called him. Could he even call the that now? Teammates? They didn’t care about Dick anymore. The only person he had left was Wally. But Bruce didn’t respond, “The love of my life just decided that he was worth fucking nothing.” And I never got to tell him, went unsaid. He’d been too scared of rejection, and look where that got him. Wally saved Dick’s life by losing his own, and Dick had been too much of a coward to tell him one fucking thing. Six fucking words.</p>
<p>He never should’ve convinced Wally to help him, “All of this fucking shit was for nothing!” He sobbed, hiding his face in the hand that wasn’t holding his phone. Fuck Bane, fuck Bludhaven.</p>
<p>Maybe if Dick kept covering his face, it would hide this weakness from the man who constantly hunted for a reason to say Dick wasn’t competent enough. But he knew it wouldn't help at all.</p>
<p>Once Dick started talking, once that damn broke, he wouldn’t stop until he let everything out. Bruce knew that too, -another one of Dick’s weaknesses- and that’s when Bruce finally spoke, but his suggestion only angered Dick, “Try to fucking stop me from leaving my room. It’s not gonna happen,” he snarled into the phone. Bruce couldn’t tell him what to do anymore. He’d lost that right when he’d kicked him out at fourteen.</p>
<p>Bruce tried again, sensing where Dick's sudden anger originated from. It had been the main reason for their fights in the past. An easy thing for the World's Greatest Detective to figure out. It was to help train him, Bruce said, I thought you were over it, he said. Come back to the manor so I can keep an eye on you, he said. Bullshit, it was all fucking lies.</p>
<p>Dick growled, scratchingat his face, “No, I’m not fucking over it!” Why the hell would Bruce think Dick could forgive him just because his only friend died. That he would go running back to Bruce whenever the man demanded just because he'd lost someone else.</p>
<p>God he missed Wally. He’d know what to do right now. He’d be able to help Dick get out of this mess. Help him get his friends back. But he wasn’t here anymore. He was gone.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe I did this fucking shit all over again.” Let someone else die for him. First his parents, now Wally. Dick was a walking death magnet. Maybe Bruce was right. Maybe he should just stay in his room and never leave. At least everyone would be safe. Maybe he should just die. At least he would be with Wally. It’s not like his ‘friends’ would notice anyway.</p>
<p>Dick sagged his shoulder and sobbed into the phone. What was he doing? He shouldn't be thinking like this. He couldn't waste Wally's sacrifice. He couldn't.</p>
<p>Bruce was still silent when Dick finally whispered into the phone, “I fucked up my own life.” And really, he only had himself to blame.</p>
<p>Wally was gone, and Dick was alone.</p>
<p>So, so alone.</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Hey guys! So </b>
  <b>I</b>
  <b> found a bunch of prompts an such so </b>
  <b>I</b>
  <b> decided to make a big book of them. They all surround our boi Dick here, as Nightwing and Robin. Even some AU stuff too. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>But this was a challenge prompt. I was only allowed to </b>
  <b>use</b>
  <b> one character to speak, and </b>
  <b>I</b>
  <b> was given only the lines you saw to have him say. </b>
  <b>So</b>
  <b> it was hard to figure </b>
  <b>out</b>
  <b> what the story should've been about.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>But I don't think </b>
  <b>I</b>
  <b> did too bad.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Let me know what you think in the comments, and if you have a prompt, send it to me! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>This </b>
  <b>should</b>
  <b> have a part two </b>
  <b>and</b>
  <b> possibly three. </b>
  <b>I'll</b>
  <b> make sure </b>
  <b>I</b>
  <b> tell you in the next chapter if it is.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Til next time, </b><br/>
<b>Rachel :)</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Six Words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Day after day, year after year he said nothing of his affection. Day after day, year after year, he watched his best friend fall in love. Day after day, year after year, he hated himself because in the end, everything that happened was his fault. </p>
<p>
  <em>It's my choice Dick!</em>
</p>
<p>But no one noticed. No one noticed how far he'd fallen, and without a net to catch him, it was only a matter of time before he did something irreversible. He swallowed hard, the taste of medicine following on his tongue. He didn't need water anymore.</p>
<p>Today was the one year mark, and he was still alive. Something he painfully regretted. Oh so deeply. How could one small sacrifice cause so many things to go wrong?</p>
<p>
  <em>We'll be okay, don't worry.</em>
</p>
<p>"I am in love with you," he whispered to the cold, winter air, breath creating small foggy clouds. His eyes blinked slowly, heavy. So easy. Just six simple words. So why could he never say them? </p>
<p>
  <em>It's okay Dick, take your time.</em>
</p>
<p>None of his friends ever called him back. Dick had tried so many times. Everyday. They never showed up when invited nor when he called for help as Nightwing.</p>
<p>He'd been ostracized from the only people he had left. And it hurt. He just wanted to scream because it hurt so much. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw and bleeding. But he couldn't.</p>
<p>Nobody was there to listen. His breath hitched.</p>
<p>
  <em>I'll always be here for you, Dick, no matter what.</em>
</p>
<p>They blamed him he supposed, after all, Wally wouldn't have died if Dick could've taken care of himself. If Dick had created a better plan. If he'd done more research. Wally wouldn't have died if...</p>
<p>If Dick hadn't been alive.</p>
<p>But, "I am in love with you," he whispered, oh so silently as he walked, his gait wavering every few steps. But the wind carried his words away, because no one was there to listen.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, don't forget you can always call me, okay? We're best friends, remember?</em>
</p>
<p>It didn't take him long to reach his destination even with the small haze building up in his mind. Despite the frigid wind that fought him, Dick was used to this walk. It was long and always painful this time around, but he had to come, even if nobody wanted him too.</p>
<p>He'd already missed Wally's funeral. They wouldn't let him in.</p>
<p>
  <em>I trust you. This mission will be easy, yeah?</em>
</p>
<p>Dick knelt <em>-dropped-</em> down when he arrived, the fresh snow melting into his jean's. His sobs melting into the harsh brushing of trees as the wind sailed on, creating a haunting melody.</p>
<p>Dick let his eyes droop down, carried by the wait of his sadness. Someone else must've visited today, as the area around him had been cleared and fresh flowers were resting gently on the stone. It looked as if it could have been a scene out of a movie, with the somber beauty of the whole thing. Phantom of the Opera perhaps? He could almost hear the tune.</p>
<p>
  <em>You were always one for theatrics, Dick. That's what </em>
  <em>I</em>
  <em> like about you.</em>
</p>
<p>But it was one year today and Dick still hadn't done anything meaningful. Wally's sacrifice was a waste, like his friends <em>-former-</em> had been saying the whole time. Even Barry had left Dick after the first few months.</p>
<p>Barry had given up on trying to get Dick out of his apartment. He even stopped calling every day and let it trickle to every month or so. It hurt Dick, but he knew he wasn't helping Barry heal, he was just a constant reminder of the person he'd lost.</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm sorry.</em>
</p>
<p>So little by little, Dick let the last of his relationships dwindle away, if only to make this next part easier for himself. It was selfish he knew, but didn't he deserve anything? His limbs were starting to feel like lead.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dick, you're the best man I know, don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?</em>
</p>
<p>He let his body fall not so gracefully to the ground and stared up at the darkening sky. Even the day had begun to leave him. It knew what came next. It had seen it many times before.</p>
<p>
  <em>I'll be back in a flash.</em>
</p>
<p>The snow was still cold, but Dick barely noticed, just staring upward, thinking of what had been. Of what could have been.</p>
<p>
  <em>There's something </em>
  <em>I</em>
  <em> need to tell you, something </em>
  <em>I</em>
  <em> should've </em>
  <em>said</em>
  <em> a long time ago.</em>
</p>
<p>All he had to do was say six words. "I am in love with you," Dick mouthed, not allowing any sound to grace his lips. Why didn't he say them? There were so many opportunities.</p>
<p>A hug that lasted a few seconds to long. A sneaky smile and wandering eyes. Stray hands resting on each other. An inside joke nobody else shared. It was obvious, but he was still scared.</p>
<p>So many missed opportunities.</p>
<p>
  <em>I...never mind, I'll tell you tomorrow. </em>
</p>
<p>The wind picked up and the rustling trees soon became a distraction to Dick's goal. They were working against him. Everyone was always working against him.</p>
<p>Bruce hadn't called him since their first fight on the phone. Dick could only figure it was because the man had finally deemed him worthless.</p>
<p>Was this really all that life had planned for Dick Grayson? Was this why his mother always told him he was so special?</p>
<p>Richard John Grayson of the Flying Grayson's, a coward.</p>
<p>Dick chuckled silently, a choked sob sneaking past at the same moment. He sat up, blinking heavily. His eyelids were doing their best to draw him into sleep. It was getting hard to think, and he was so tired.</p>
<p>Oh so tired.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dick...</em>
</p>
<p>But, using the last of his strength, he knelt on the ground once more, bowing his head. He didn't leave a note.</p>
<p>There was no one here to listen.</p>
<p>“I am in love with you,” he whispered to the headstone before him. So easy. Just six simple words, pack full of unheard meaning.</p>
<p>
  <em>I am in love with you.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>Welp, here's this. The challenge on </b>
  <b>this was</b>
  <b> to use the words, "I am in love with you," and </b>
  <b>keep</b>
  <b> it under 1,000 words. I failed at that and used 1,005, but it's close enough.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>For those of </b>
  <b>you</b>
  <b> that don't understand or are a bit confused, the italic voice is Wally, but just memories of him saying those lines.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Also, technically Dick does die at the end of this. I did my best to put tiny hints at an overdose in here. Minus </b>
  <b>actual</b>
  <b> symptoms cuz </b>
  <b>that's</b>
  <b> what authors do. Lol. But you can keep the ending ambiguous if you want.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Let me</b>
  <b> know what you think in the comments!</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Also just realized the only words </b>
  <b>I</b>
  <b> used that were spoken was the "I am in love with you." Yikes.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>This is a pt. 2 of Who To Blame? Which was the first chapter.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Til next time,</b>
  <br/>
  <b>Rachel</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"<em>You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine."</em></p><p>He sang, voice soft and creaky, and his throat, raw and gurgling. But yet, he still sang. Part of him was warm, as though the sun itself had come down from the sky to grip him. Oh, was he warm. His nose and face were burning with warmth. Although, something was wet. Perhaps rain had begun to fall, or a tear had slipped from his eye. But Icarus couldn't even begin to fight against the warmth he felt right now. Loved. It was a loving kind of warmth, with the faint feeling of a mother's touch.</p><p>But he was also cold. His legs, his toes, his fingers, they were all cold. An encroaching numbness, like the one you got from swimming for hours on end or running too many miles to escape your problems. It was a static numbness that brought sharp pains to his affected limbs. But the numbness was growing, climbing up his body with an ever-quickening pace.</p><p>And yet he still sang.</p><p>"<em>You make me happy when skies are gray."</em></p><p>Something wet fell on his cheek, and he began to wonder why exactly he was singing. Why was he forcing words and rhythm out when his body hurt so? Why was singing so important when he kept choking on the liquid in his throat? He didn't remember drinking water, so why was he having such a hard time swallowing? Why was he singing when something was terribly wrong with his body?</p><p>Something wet fell again and his eyes finally gave him a picture. It was faint, but it was something he could never forget. Red hair, sad, green eyes, and freckles. So many freckles.</p><p>Wally.</p><p>He was singing for Wally. The warmth, the sun, it was all Wally. He was being held by the person he loved most.</p><p>He was singing for Wally, and even the dying man could finally realize why. He could finally understand that life was leaving him, cold and bare as a newborn baby. Frail and weak, cold and senseless.</p><p>"<em>You'll never know dear, how much I love you."</em></p><p>The singing continued, not that he knew how his body managed when his mind was barely there. Only capable of processing the simplest things. Like Wally. Like death.</p><p>It was pathetic really, how broken his voice sounded. His ears could barely recognize the forced words that choked him so. Barley knew what song was rushing past his lips, stealing away his limited breaths. But they were for Wally. Some kind of twisted form of comfort, only Wally wasn't the one dying, it was him.</p><p>"<em>Please don't take, my Sunshine, away…"</em></p><p>It came as an afterthought, the moment he realized breath was no longer entering his lungs. He didn't feel the burn, not like he thought he should. Death really was painless, wasn't it? The end of it at least, after most of the body had shut down, and the brain was scrambling to do anything at all. His death was painless. Whatever it was that killed him escaped his memory, and he'd always been told that his was the best.</p><p>His eyes were closed now and seemingly refused to open back up despite his best efforts. His throat didn't choke him anymore, and everything was silent. All he felt was warmth, so much so, that it had even begun to overtake the numbness.</p><p>He was moving, not by his own doing, but a soft sway had taken hold of his body. Rocking him deeper into oblivion. His brain had finally given up. It had abandoned all hope of revival, accepting this deadly sway as destiny. It gave up, and with it, so did he.</p><p>His breath had left, the song had left, his brain had given up, and the warmth was fading.</p><p>His life had left.</p><p>But Wally hadn't. Even hours after the warmth had left, Wally stayed, still rocking and swaying, finishing the song that his mouth had left unsaid.</p><p>How terrible it is, to love something that death can touch.</p><p>"<em>The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms."</em></p><p>"<em>But when I woke dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head and cried."</em></p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Yeah, this a bit on the shorter side for me, but since I haven't posted in a while, I needed something small to get me back into my writing funk.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>If you didn't understand, Dick is dying and singing "You are my sunshine" to Wally in an attempt to comfort him. After Dick dies, Wally finishes the song.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It's kinda sad and is not related to the other chapters posted in here. Although the second one will be getting another addition.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>As always, let me know what you think and if you had any favorite lines, parts, scenes, etc. </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
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